My Scumbag System-Chapter 241: You Call This Help? I Call It Foreplay.

Natalia, Soomin, and Emi stared at me like I’d just announced I was secretly a vampire or something equally stupid.

The basement gym got real quiet.

Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Cast weird shadows on their faces. Made Natalia’s purple eyes look almost black. Made Soomin’s pink hair glow like cotton candy under stage lights. Made Emi’s antenna-hair-things twitch harder.

I grinned. Couldn’t help it.

This? This was fun.

"Well?" I spread my arms wide. Gestured at the training mats like I was some game show host revealing the grand prize. "Floor’s yours. Don’t be shy."

Natalia moved first.

Course she did. My queen never hesitated when she could make an entrance instead.

She walked into the gym like she owned it. Those silk pajama shorts swayed with each step. Purple fabric caught the light. Showed off the curve of her hips, the smooth skin of her thighs. The shorts barely covered anything worth covering. Her camisole was thin enough that I could see the outline of her bra underneath.

She’d dressed for war. Just happened to be the sexy kind of war.

"I should check on Emi-chan’s progress anyway." Her voice dripped honey. The kind of honey that came with a side of poison. "Can’t let you corrupt my best friend."

I pressed a hand to my chest. "Corrupt? That hurts, Natalia. Really. I’m just teaching survival skills."

"That what you’re calling it?"

She smirked. Crossed her arms under her breasts. Pushed them up against the lavender fabric until it strained. Her eyes never left mine. Daring me to look. Daring me to react.

I looked.

What? I’m not blind.

Emi clutched her bow tighter. Her face went from pink to red. Those weird antenna strands on her head practically vibrated.

"Nat, it’s not like that!" She held up the bow like it would prove something. "Satori-kun found out I’m good at archery! Look!"

Her excitement was kind of adorable. All bright-eyed and genuine. No games. No hidden agendas. Just pure, unfiltered enthusiasm over a stupid bow.

That’s what made her so easy.

Soomin still hadn’t moved from the doorway.

She twisted the hem of her oversized shirt between her fingers, wringing it like she was trying to extract courage from the fabric. Pink hair cascaded across her face like a protective curtain, obscuring most of her expression from view.

Her shirt hung precariously off one shoulder, revealing a stretch of alabaster skin and the delicate strap of her tank top beneath. Sleep shorts barely reached mid-thigh, leaving her legs exposed to the cool air of the training room.

She continuously shifted her weight from one bare foot to the other, her toes curling against the floor as if seeking purchase in her uncertainty.

For someone blessed with a figure that could stop traffic, she put remarkable effort into trying to vanish into the woodwork.

"Soomin." I deliberately softened my voice, adopting the gentle cadence you’d use to coax a frightened animal from hiding.

"You said you wanted training help, right? Stop lurking in the doorway like you’re expecting someone to chase you out."

Her head snapped up with such sudden intensity I was surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash. Those mesmerizing gradient blue eyes—shallow sea fading into deep ocean—went comically wide. She stared at me as though I’d performed some impossible feat just by acknowledging her existence.

"I... um..." Her fingers tortured the shirt hem with renewed vigor, twisting it into an unrecognizable rope. "Yes, but I don’t want to... intrude on whatever you’re... doing..."

Her whispered words barely managed the journey across the training room, fragile things that seemed to lose substance with every inch they traveled.

"You’re not intruding." I allowed genuine warmth to infuse my tone, coating my words in honey before glancing pointedly at Natalia. "Unlike some people who make a habit of it."

Natalia’s eyes narrowed dangerously, the vibrant purple darkening like storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

Game on.

She glided across the floor toward Emi. Without so much as asking permission, she plucked the bow from Emi’s hands.

"Let me see this miraculous bow that supposedly transformed our sweet, clumsy Emi into some kind of archery prodigy overnight." She examined the weapon with critical precision, turning it over in her manicured hands and testing the string with practiced fingers. Her eyebrow arched skeptically. "It’s just a standard training bow. Nothing special about it at all."

Emi’s fingers fidgeted at her sides. Watched Natalia hold her bow with obvious anxiety.

Already attached to it. Already attached to my approval.

Perfect.

"Your form’s probably terrible." Natalia assumed an archer’s stance. Back straight. Feet shoulder-width apart. She nocked an arrow. Drew the string back. Aimed at the target dummy across the room. "Let me show you how it’s actually done."

Her posture looked good.

Almost good.

Her elbow sat a fraction too high. Weight distribution off by maybe half an inch. She knew it too. I caught her glancing at me through her lashes. Just a flicker. Quick enough to pretend it didn’t happen.

She wanted me to correct her.

Wanted me to touch her.

Oh, you sneaky little manipulator.

I moved behind her. Pressed my chest against her back. The same position I’d used with Emi earlier. But this felt different. Hotter. More dangerous. Because Natalia knew exactly what she was doing. Every breath. Every tiny shift of her body. All intentional.

My hand slid down her arm. Fingers wrapped around her wrist. Adjusted her grip on the bow.

"Elbow’s too high." I spoke near her ear. Close enough that my breath stirred the strands of her hair. "And you’re holding tension here."

My other hand found her hip. Fingers pressed into the silk fabric. Into the soft skin underneath. Pulled her back against me. Against the hardness that hadn’t gone away since touching Emi.

Natalia’s breath caught.

She felt it.

Good.

"You’re not grounded right." My voice dropped lower. Words meant only for her. "Power comes from the hips."

I pressed forward. Ground against her. Slow. Deliberate. A reminder wrapped in an instruction. This belonged to her. My queen. Even if I played with others, she came first.

For now.

"I know that." Her voice came out strained. Tight. Fighting to stay controlled.

"Then show me."